The chilli-phobe is, ironically, very fond of Indian food. He
likes the layers of warmth, the soothing sauces, the fragrant and
complex spicing that defines the regional cuisines of the
subcontinent. He can cope with a note of chilli in a curry but not
the arpeggios that rage through most of what is offered up as
Indian food in takeaways and restaurants around town.

So, before we venture out to this "Indian Place, with a
contemporary twist" as the website promises, I do the right thing
and ring to warn them. I am assured by a nice voice on the phone
that "we can do dishes without chilli in them".

Reassured, we arrive at what used to be an art deco picture
palace, the Bijou, but has become apartments above a series of
restaurants, of which All India Restaurant is the latest. A barrage
of white-framed windows and folding doors is confusing but we find
the entrance through the four tables outside at the top of the
steps.

We pass from the gloaming of dusk to the darkness of a room that
is punctuated by glowing lamps at one end and an attractive,
spot-lit rug hanging on the wall at the other. There is also a
dinky alcove where a string of coloured bulbs flashes on and off
through a potted plant in front of a mirror.

Strangely, despite the blinking lights, it's a chic room. The
walls gleam like the background to a still-life painting with their
pleasing colours of saffron, mustard and aubergine. Inside the
bright open kitchen, the chef is sporting one of the tallest toques
I've seen.

In the middle of the room is a handsome, stand-alone bar where a
nude figurine holds a rack of glasses and a little boy plays on the
revolving stools. Couples line the banquette under the hanging rug.
The artistic motif continues: at my elbow is a nude female torso in
the Henry Moore-meets-Venus de Milo style.

We are pointed to our table rather than taken to it and find a
basket of pappadums and a bottle of water waiting for us. Just as
well because, in 10 minutes, no one comes to offer a drink or take
our order. Eventually, I catch the eye of a charming young man with
the demeanour of a shy student and he hurries off to get me a
Singha beer (why is there no Indian brew, I wonder).

The menu ranges widely across India, offering you Goan or Bengal
fish curries, Persian beef and apricots and Mysore lamb chops. Our
shy waiter says the kitchen can turn the heat up or down on the
dishes so, with that in mind, we start with the Mysore lamb chops,
which are tender and fill my mouth with tandoori spice rather than
the sesame or ginger or garlic noted on the menu. I can't resist
gnawing on the slightly fatty bones that are loaded with flavour
and ignore the dull mint yoghurt accompaniment.

The croquettes register low on the chilli scale (no reaction
from the chilli-phobe) with a good creamy texture that contrasts
with the lovely brown crunch on the outside. But I'm hard pushed to
identify the filling as spinach and homemade cottage cheese, though
I do get a hint of the cashew nuts.

Spirits soar with two wonderful main courses. We plump for the
tangy flavours of tamarind and tomato in a chicken rogani that is
balanced just the way I like it - not too sweet but definitely not
acidic - and laced with peppery heat (rather than chilli heat) and
cool mint. Then we go mellow with the clove-tinted creaminess of a
duck quilon. The duck is fall-apart tender, the spicing is skilful
and the aromatic cloves rise above the cinnamon and curry.

Our table orders two naan breads (we love a tandoor-fired
dough). The peshwari naan is sumptuous, with a rich layer of
sugared coconut and sultanas inside. It proves to be a fabulous
dipping vehicle for the curries, lending them even more depth. The
garlic naan is not nearly as exciting, however.

Desserts are clearly not an event here; you have a choice of
two: pista kulfi and gulab jamoon, the fried milk dumplings. We go
for the ice-cream with cinnamon, pistachio and almonds, and almost
wish we hadn't. It's icy and tastes like cooked condensed milk.

Yet, no matter. We're lulled into a cosy state, what with the
relaxed atmosphere, soothing lighting and the memory of warm spices
still immediate. Just what the chilli-phobe wanted.

Out of 10

Food 7
If only the entrees were as interesting as the main courses.

Service 7
Charming if a little vague. You do much better if you are under 10
- children most welcome.

Atmosphere 8
Warm and soothing and as intriguing as some of the spicing in the
dishes.